to the
shriveled features. "Oh, speak to Mary. It is I, Maid Mary! See, I
am with you."

But no sound came from the frozen lips, nor did the wrinkled hands
answer Mary's warm grasp.

"She is likely stunned," said Mrs. Dunbar, encouragingly. "Michael,
can you carry her?"

"Certainly I can," declared the stalwart man, and shouldering the inert
burden, her arms brought over his strong chest, and her limbs fetched
around under his own strong arms, he carried the unconscious woman up
the steps into Cragsnook.

Speechless with terror, Mary followed, while Mrs. Dunbar led the way
with the light, and Jennie had hurried on ahead to make ready, scarcely
knowing where the gruesome burden was to be rested.

"On the couch in the library," ordered Mrs. Dunbar, "and, Jennie,
telephone at once for Dr. Whitehead. I feel sure she is only stunned.
Mary dear, be brave," she continued. "We will surely bring your poor,
old nurse back to you," she finished.

But Mary stood like one transfixed, gazing at the helpless figure
huddled on the low, leather couch.

CHAPTER XXII

THE ORPHAN OF THE ORCHIDS

Anxious hours at Cragsnook followed that night's storm. Reda, who had
been ill in New York, had somehow managed to make her way to Bellaire
when she was overtaken by the cloud-burst and stunned from fright of
lightning and thunder. But with the skillful work of Dr. Whitehead,
assisted by Jennie, Kate Bergen (Michael's cousin who arrived after the
shower), Mrs. Dunbar and the girls, the old nurse finally opened her
eyes, and showed signs of life.

"Oh, I never knew how much I loved her until I saw her lying so
deathlike," Mary murmured, when Mrs. Dunbar insisted the child should
leave the bedside of Reda. "If she had died, and I had not found her
in time----"

"Now, Mary-love," coaxed Grace, "you know you are a scout, and we never
indulge in foolish fancies like that. Just think how fine it is that
she has been saved, and think how good Mrs. Dunbar is."

"Oh, I know and think of that constantly," declared Mary. "This house
is nothing short of an institution since I came to it," she went on.
"And do you know, Cleo," turning to the one girl who had the right
there of relationship to Mrs. Dunbar, "it all frightens me when I feel
so much at home here, almost as if I too belonged at Cragsnook. It is
presuming, and I can't account for that in me. I have always been so
timid."

"You are cured, that's why," said Cleo,